Drowning by Numbers
by Madame Batolli
Summary: A Xiaoyu/Hwoarang ficlet collection. 13: Sometimes the familiar sound of a motorbike is enough to make a bad day all better.
1. Dare

_A/N: Thanks for clicking! This is where I'm gonna keep all my little Xiaoyu/Hwoarang oneshots/drabbles/wtf-ever. I'm using the seventh set of prompts from Ficlets100 on Livejournal, so yep, I'm hoping to do a hundred of these little buggers. Well, I hope you enjoy the first of the set (which is word 53 'Dare') and let me know what you thought, okay? Always love to get feedback on this stuff._

* * *

**Dare**

* * *

The pub was a complete dive, yellowing wallpaper that looked like it had been there since the seventies, the usual framed prints of old adverts on the walls, the air thick with smoke, and in the corner a couple of battered, beerstained sofas covered in cigarette burns. Still, the barmaid was friendly enough, and more than willing to lend a sympathetic ear. Although, Xiaoyu supposed she wasn't really listening, just nodding and clicking her tongue at the right moments. It didn't matter though. As long as she was allowed to vent her frustrations, she didn't care if her whining was going in one ear and out the other. She took a sip of her third lukewarm alcopop and shook her head. 

"So, I guess you'll be checking the 'wanted' ads tomorrow then?" The barmaid asked, wiping a glass clean.

"It's either that or selling my organs for profit." she complained.

"You don't wanna be doing that. Try selling your underwear to dirty old men instead."

"I'm sorry, who gave you permission to interrupt our conversation?" Xiaoyu asked haughtily, turning around on the barstool to face the guy who'd joined her. She blinked, wondering whether the alcohol was working on her already, or it was the damned cigarette smoke responsible for sending her vision blurry. It only lasted a moment before she was able to focus her eyes on him.

"Now there's a face I haven't seen for a while." she murmured, and Hwoarang grinned.

"Didn't expect to see a nice kid like you in a place like this. Get lost on the way to the champagne bar, did we?"

She fixed him with a glare.

"For one thing, I'm twenty-three. I haven't been a kid for a long time, and for another, you're looking at someone who's newly unemployed, soon to be penniless. So champagne's not exactly a priority at the moment."

"Sucks to be you, I guess."

"Thanks for your concern."

"So then, did you catch up with Kazama, or are you still stuck chasing him?"

"Most people would just ask what I've been doing these past few years."

"Yeah? Well, I'm betting it was Kazama."

She drained the rest of her drink and scowled as what he'd just said registered properly.

"Still making stupid jokes, I see." Xiaoyu put the empty bottle down on the bar. "And still obsessed with Jin. He doesn't swing that way, Hwoarang."

"Like he could handle me. Anyway, how do you know?" Hwoarang laughed. "Unless I was right. In that case, do me a favour and ask Kazama if he's ever planning on paying me back for trashing my bike. Five years and not as much as a deposit, the bastard."

"Sorry, but it's been a while since I've seen him."

"That so? I always figured you two would've got together."

She looked away, into the haze of smoke and dim light. She couldn't remember exactly when she'd last seen Jin. It hadn't been long after she'd realised that he could never love her the way she wanted him to. Sure, he cared about her, and she guessed she'd known all along that he saw her as the younger sister he never had. For a time, she tried to kid herself that that kind of love was enough, but then he'd flash her a smile that gave her butterflies, and hope would spark inside her again. It was futile, and Xiaoyu couldn't keep doing it to herself.

That had been about two years ago, and she hadn't spoken to him since. Completely cutting herself off was the only way she'd been able to truly get over him. The only problem she faced now was how to go about affording to live by herself. When she'd been a ward of the Mishima Zaibatsu, she hadn't had to worry about that stuff. And now she was jobless. Figures.

She turned to Hwoarang with a smirk.

"Like he could handle me."

"Well, since you're 'penniless' and all, want a drink?"

"Nice of you to remind me." she groaned.

"That mean you don't want one?"

"Shots."

"What?"

"The best way to kill the pain. Fact."

Vodka. Slam. Sambuca. Slam. Tequila.

Hwoarang watched in amusement as she slammed the shot glass down on the bar then sat back, holding the edge of the barstool to keep her balance.

"Maybe you should slow down..."

She rolled her eyes.

"I think I should speed up. I can still focus on stuff." She did another, wincing a little as the alcohol burned her throat. "And why aren't you joining me, huh?"

"Me and shots don't mix." he told her. "Learned that when I was fourteen and I woke up in a thorn-bush with one of my trainers missing."

Xiaoyu held the glass between her fingertips, staring into the remaining dregs of green liquid.

"That doesn't mean you can't drink shots, it just means you don't know when to stop."

"And you do?"

"Do you know how many calories are in a shot of apple sour?" she asked, ignoring him. "You're gonna get me fat."

"You're drinking it."

"You paid for it."

"That makes it my fault?"

"Yep." Xiaoyu laughed. "That's right."

He rest his chin on his hand, smiling.

"What?" she asked, brushing her hair back self-consciously. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

She regarded him through narrowed eyes, and he kept right on smiling,

"C'mon, what are you thinking about?"

"What it'd be like to fuck you."

Xiaoyu laughed out loud.

"Well, you're nothing if not honest."

Hwoarang took a swig of his beer, eyes glittering with mischief.

"Go on then." Xiaoyu rest her elbows on the bar. "What would it be like?" She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, satisfied by the surprise evident on his face. "Come on, tell me."

"Okay... think about the best sex you've ever had."

She turned to face him.

"Yeah?"

"Better."

"Confident, aren't you? Let me guess, you've never had any complaints?" She smiled. "That doesn't mean you're any good, it just means no one's complained."

"You wanna find out _why_ no one's complained?" Hwoarang grinned.

"I think I'm about twelve shots away from that."

He smirked and pushed the last sambuca shot towards her, and Xiaoyu giggled.


	2. Fading

_A/N: Merci beaucoup for the reviews for the first ficlet! You all deserve squeezyhugs, but since I can't reach through your computer screens and do so, (plus you might run away in terror thinking that Samara's come for you, haha) maybe this new ficlet will do. This one is kind of a 'what if...' thingy set during/after T4, and it's for prompt number 16: Fading. Hope you enjoy it, and I'd be v.happy to hear your thoughts on this one. _

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**Fading**

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He's leaning against a tree with her in his lap, snow falling around them softly, and there's hardly any sound apart from their breathing and the familiar crackling of fire in the distance. Xiaoyu is resting her head against his chest, and he knows that if the situation were different, he'd be happy to have her so close, looking so contented. But he doesn't know how much time he has left to spend with her. 

"I-I can't feel anything." she'd said when he found her.

"It's only 'cause it's cold. You'll be fine." he'd answered, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"You think so?" Then she'd smiled, relieved. "Can we rest a bit? I'm a bit tired... don't want to go anywhere just yet."

So they stayed there, sharing a peaceful moment, and now she gazes up into the silver studded midnight sky, her breathing slow and quiet and even.

"If you'd have won the tournament, what would you have done?"

"With the prize?"

He feels her nod.

"I'd have sold it. Get myself a huge wad of cash for it. What about you?"

"I... I'd make them build an amusement park." She laughs a little. "Sounds stupid, right?"

He doesn't answer. He almost can't believe it; he can feel her blood soaking through his shirt, knows there isn't much time left, and _still _his throat closes around any words he wants to say.

"Have you ever been to one?"

"Hm?"

His eyes are burning, and he feels the brush of fingertips against his face.

"That face doesn't suit you. Smile."

"Xiao... I..."

"Have you ever been to an amusement park?"

"...Yeah. Back when I was a kid."

"Tell me... tell me about it."

"I can't remember much, except that there were fireflies."

"Fireflies?"

"It was summer, and I just remember sitting on the grass in the dark and watching fireflies."

She takes her hand from his cheek, slowly reaches through the dark towards the burnt orange embers floating from the blaze engulfing Hon-Maru.

"Like those?"

"...Like those."

"Hey, Hwoarang... I'd like to... see them someday."

"I'll take you."

He waits a while for an answer that doesn't come, watches the snow drift down to land on her nose, cheeks, eyes that have slipped closed.

"When this is all over..." He carries on the conversation as if he hasn't noticed the silence and stillness of her body.

"I'll take you to see them." he says, looking up into the stars and snowflakes and drifting embers.


	3. Trouble

_A/N: Ficlet number three and prompt number 43. I've been reading 'Norwegian Wood' by Haruki Murakami, and Xiaoyu's character here is heavily influenced by the character of Midori in that book, so this one... is strange, just to warn you. Tell me whether it worked or not by leaving a review, and I will love you forever.  
_

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**Trouble**

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Hwoarang was smoking a cigarette and strolling past a small, expensive looking outdoor cafe when he heard raised voices and saw Jin Kazama slam his hands down, the force enough to rattle the cups and teapot that were on the table. The girl who was with him looked unaffected, gazing up with wide brown eyes and asking "So you're going, then?" 

"Here." Jin said, exasperated, and threw a crumpled note onto a saucer. "For your ride back."

She took the money but remained seated as he stalked off, reaching up to comb her fingers through one of her pigtails, and Hwoarang hesitated, wondering if he should go and see if she was okay, or leave her be. After a few seconds, the decision was taken out of his hands when Xiaoyu spotted him and waved cheerfully. That was the first thing that surprised him. It wouldn't be the last.

"What's up with Kazama?" he asked, slipping into the empty seat next to her, and she shrugged.

"I made him mad."

"Yeah, I figured."

Xiaoyu crossed her arms behind her head and leaned back on the chair with a sigh, looking up into the sunshine.

"I'm having one of my weird days. I get like this sometimes. He doesn't like it."

"Weird days?" He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and lit another one, only to have it swiped from his hand by her quick fingers.

"Let me guess, 'smoking's bad for you, you should quit, it's not good for a martial artist to..." Hwoarang turned to her and trailed off at the sight of the girl taking a drag, breathing out the smoke with a relaxed sigh.

"What?" she asked, opening her eyes. "It's okay for you and not me?" She handed the cigarette back to him.

"No, I just didn't expect..."

"It's okay." Xiaoyu smiled. "I'm not a chain smoker like you. Besides, I'm having a weird day. It's allowed. Good job it's your cigs and not Jin's, though. He'd go nuts. 'Don't pick up such a terrible habit', or something like that."

She took a sip of her coffee. "He's so reserved. Jeez, all I said was that I wanted to cut my hair."

"He got pissed at you over a haircut?"

"Yep. I was telling him how this morning I was looking in the mirror, and I just wanted to do something crazy, y'know? Like grab the kitchen scissors and go nuts, cut it all short and choppy and say it's elfin or whatever the stylists call it these days. Of course, he says 'you should think about it for a while, you'd be mad to just do that without considering it properly' and so I told him that was the point, I didn't want to think about it, I wanted to just do something impulsive like that, y'know?"

"Mm, it's not exactly spur-of-the-moment if you think it through."

"Exactly." Xiaoyu tilted her head, considering. "Actually, it wasn't just the haircut thing that pissed him off... I've been like this all day. But I just wish he could understand. Sometimes I get like this. I wanna do stuff. Go places. Like, get on a train to the seaside and strip off and swim as far as I can. Know what I mean?"

"Sorry." Hwoarang replied with a grin. "I heard as far as 'strip off' and then started picturing it."

She laughed, bringing her knees up and hugging them to her chest.

"Speaking of, I asked Jin if he'd like it if I bought some sexy underwear. 'You're a good girl, it wouldn't be like you', he says. Isn't that the whole point of sexy underwear? To let your naughty side through?"

"I wouldn't know, Xiaoyu. I don't wear sexy underwear."

"Try it." Xiaoyu laughed. "And let me know when you do, so I can take pictures. But seriously, that can't be typical guy behaviour, can it? I mean, if I offered to wear stockings and suspenders and teeny frilly undies for you, would you say that?"

"Tell you what, wear them for me and we'll see."

"Okay." She nabbed his cigarette again, smiling up at the sky, giggling softly to herself.

"What're you laughing at?"

"Huh? Oh..." she breathed out smoke and handed the cigarette back. "Well, I kinda lied to you before. Jin didn't leave because of a haircut. I mean, it might have contributed, but I don't think it was the last straw."

"What was the last straw?"

She smiled, picking up her coffee cup.

"I asked him if we could rent a porno."

"A what?"

"You know, one of those really dirty ones. Not just some lame 'erotic' flick for women. Something with one girl and loads of guys and no plot, with a terrible name like 'Dirty Sex-Crazed Bastards' or something."

Hwoarang stared at her in amazement as she flashed an innocent smile. Cute, childish Ling Xiaoyu talking about this? 'Weird day' was an understatement.

"And he was all 'what did you say', so I told him girls like porn too, I mean, I used to look for my brother's dirty magazines in all the dust and trash and tissues under his bed! So then he looked all disgusted and said 'I can't be doing with you when you're like this' and stormed off. He's such an innocent boy, sometimes. I didn't think the idea that I might like things like that would be such a shock to him."

Xiaoyu rummaged in her bag and offered Hwoarang the money that Jin had left for her.

"He said 'this is for your ride home' so here. For petrol. Now, where's your bike? Always wanted to ride one of those things."

"You," Hwoarang started, putting out his cigarette. "Are crazy."

"Like I said, I get like this sometimes. Well, actually... I'm like this all the time. It's just that I don't let anyone see. So every so often, I have one of these days."

"I see."

"I should let a psychologist do a case study on me. I'm sure they'd find some way to explain it. I bet it'd involve my repressed upbringing and the influence of the status quo."

He stood up, and Xiaoyu gave a little sigh.

"You're leaving?" she asked, disappointed.

"Yeah."

Well, she guessed it was to be expected. She was nothing but trouble on her weird days, couldn't blame him. Then Hwoarang surprised her by grabbing her hand, pulling her along with him.

"C'mon, what d'ya wanna do first?" He asked. "Cut your hair, go swim, or find a video store? I don't think 'Dirty Sex-Crazed Bastards' actually exists, but I'm sure we can find something close to it, right?"

She beamed at him.


	4. Warmth

A/N: Hee, I'm glad you liked that last chapter! Thanks for reviewing, I had such fun writing it! Well, this one is basically me wanting to write a second person thing, and it's for prompt number 56: Warmth. I'm aware it might read a little bit choppy in places, That was me trying and probably failing to portray Xiao's disjointed thoughts through the structure, lol.

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**Warmth**

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I didn't plan for it to happen at all. It was supposed to just be a regular night, the kind we have every couple of weeks at my place, where we play videogames and watch DVDs and talk, and you hang out of the window and smoke while me and Miharu watch the reruns of old cartoons on the kids' channels. But it's the third week of July, Miharu's on holiday with her family, and when I smiled at you earlier in the week and told you to come over anyway, I didn't think it would be any different than usual. Even though I... um... kind of like you _that _way, and sometimes you hold my gaze a little too long and just those few extra moments are enough to make my chest feel tight and my face redden and hope spark inside me, I always figured that the chance of you feeling the same was pretty much non-existent. Still, this far I've just reassured myself that my feelings aside, we're really good friends, and I like that. It's enough. Sort of. Anyway, I've always been pretty good at feigning indifference towards your flirty remarks, so it's not as if you could know how I feel.

It's late afternoon, the sun still blazing in the sky, and I've opened all the windows in the house because it's so unexpectedly hot. Outside the air is thick and humid, and just above the road is a haze, shimmering with heat. When you get here, you flash that easy smile and push your damp hair out of your eyes, explaining that you just took your second shower of the day, and I can smell the shower gel you used when you walk past me.

It's just as normal, I'm relaxed and smiling beside you as we make fun of the script in the film we're watching, and by the time the credits roll, the sun has dipped below the horizon, bathing my bedroom walls in the gentle glow of twilight.

"So, are you ready to get owned again?" you ask with a grin, picking up a control pad as we sit on the end of the bed in front of the t.v, and I laugh.

"Says the guy who got his ass handed to him last time we played."

"I was going easy on you." you reply, smiling, and I roll my eyes.

"As if."

Then you put the controller beside you on the bed, sit back and watch me for a while, and I glance at you a few times, disconcerted.

"What?"

"How about a bet?"

"I don't have any money."

"Hmm." The look on your face tells me that you totally expected that answer. "Then if you lose..."

I know you're just teasing by making me wait, but it still doesn't change the fact that the silky tone that's crept into your voice have given me butterflies.

"I want," you begin, reaching out to touch my face, and your fingers are warm as they stroke across my lips, "a kiss."

"D-don't be silly." I stammer, pushing your hand away, and I can see a glimmer of amusement in your eyes.

"You're scared?"

"Of you? No way."

"It's a deal, then." And you stand up, stretch lazily. "Damn, it's hot. I'm gonna go get a drink. Want one?"

I nod, and you disappear downstairs, leaving me to wonder just what it would be like if you kissed me, how my heart would race and my stomach would flip, and heat would rush through me at the sensation of your lips against mine. By the time you reappear, move unhurriedly towards me and hand me a glass of water, it feels as though every nerve in my body is tingling. I take a sip, but it does nothing to cool me, and you sit down next to me with a smile.

"Don't go losing on purpose, either." you tease as I put my glass down. "I know I'm hard to resist, but..."

I don't know quite how it happens, but I know that I'm the one who makes a move. After all that wondering and imagining, I want to know for certain. I can't help myself. I wrap my arms around your neck and kiss you, my heart thudding in my chest, mind racing with anxiety when you don't respond right away. Then your hand cups my chin gently, and you kiss back, and all thought dissolves from my head.

Your mouth on mine, your hands in my hair, it's just as I hoped it would be. Your kisses are slow and sensual, and I melt against you, our bodies pressed close. You pull away for a moment to look at me, and my face is flushed pink, fire flowing through me at the emotions glittering in your eyes. Then you kiss me again, lay me back among the pillows on my bed, and as your tongue teases mine, a night breeze blows through the open window and swirls around us like a spell.

"Hey," you murmur against my lips, your hands slowly trailing over my body. "You haven't even lost the game yet."


	5. Content

A/N: Thanks for reviewing the last ficlet, u gaiz! I'm really glad you thought it was cute. This one is for prompt word number 4: Content. Let me know if you liked it or not. And Fae, I agree with you. Hwo is sexier than Jin. Fact.

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**Content**

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It was just past one in the morning, and Ling Xiaoyu was lying on the soft carpet of grass in the garden, gazing up at the night sky. She crossed one leg over the other, humming a few notes of one of her favourite songs, utterly relaxed.

"Hey..." said Hwoarang, who was next to her, his arms crossed behind his head. "What does that cloud remind you of?"

There was a smile in his voice, and when she looked up to where he was pointing she couldn't help but giggle.

"You know exactly what it looks like." she said, and he turned onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow.

"A baguette or something, right?" He smiled, all innocence. "What, you were thinking of something else?"

"What constellation is that?" Xiaoyu asked, ignoring him. A gentle wind ruffled the grass around them, the daffodils nearby, their hair.

"You were thinking of something phallic, weren't you?"

"Do you think it's Orion's belt?"

"Did you think that cloud was Orion's dick?"

Xiaoyu laughed.

"If so, he's really well endowed."

"Heh, well we've got a lot in common, me and Orion." Hwoarang put his arms behind his head again.

"Yeah, I guess. You both attack people when you're drunk."

"Hey, that was one time. Let it go, Xiao."

"What had the guy done, again?"

"He _looked_ at me."

"How _rude_ of him."

Hwoarang gave a 'hmph' of annoyance, and they lay there in silence for a while, the night breeze carrying the sweet scent of lilac blossom to them.

"Looking up at those stars makes me remember all sorts of things from back when I was a kid." Xiaoyu said, sighing contentedly. "Like when we'd been on a day trip to the beach and we were driving back, you know? Looking out of the car window and seeing this huge sky, full of stars. Thinking 'wow, there's this huge universe up there', but still thinking the stars were these tiny little things you could hold in your hands..."

She stretched out, turned to Hwoarang.

"You know what I mean? Hey..."

His eyes were closed, and she reached out and tapped his arm.

"Hwoarang? Hey, I know you're pretending."

No response. She looked at him for a moment, considering, and then smiled to herself and looked away.

"Ahh, this bra's bothering me, I think I'll take it off..."

When she looked back, he was sitting up, his eyes on her, a grin on his face.

"I'd prefer that view to the one up there."


	6. Flicker

A/N: Wow, was the last update really in May? 'Bout time to remedy that, I think! Here's ficlet number 6, using prompt word number 71: Grin. But I don't like it as a title, so the title is different to the prompt word this time around. Sorry for the wait, I'll try not to leave it so long next time! This one's set during Tekken 4, hope it isn't confusing. Oh, by the way, if any of you guys or girls have a request for something you'd like to see in one of these fics, let me know via email or PM and I'll try and write something for you. (This is my oh so subtle way of asking for new ideas since my inspiration levels are pretty much nada right now and I need a smack upside the head.)

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**Flicker**

* * *

"Okay, you got your answer. Now are you just gonna sit there ignoring me all night?" Xiaoyu asks, arms folded, and Hwoarang makes no indication that he's listening to her.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed in silence, staring at the small television as a late night chatshow host hops down from the stage in his spangly suit and begins talking with a member of the audience.

"I know you hate this show."

No reply. The lights flicker.

"Why are you so mad?"

His eyes flick to her face for a few seconds, and then back to the reds and oranges of the glittering chatshow set.

"Because," he tells her, "I think you're a fucking liar."

His answer seems to have been expected.

"Why am I?"

"It's obvious."

Xiaoyu wants to explain herself, but she can't put it into words, can't describe her feelings in a way that anyone would really understand. So she asks why it matters so much. He turns his face away.

"Because I don't trust him. There's something... He's different than before. You can't tell me you haven't noticed."

She's noticed. That's why she can't just leave him be. She's worried and curious and wants him to be okay, and that's why Hwoarang's sure there's something more to it.

"Is that all?" she asks. She goes and sits beside him. "Is that the only reason?"

Hwoarang gets up and walks over to the window, stares through the blinds at the lamplit pathway below and gives no reply. The grinning host on the television cracks a joke and there's a ripple of laughter in response.

"I think there's another reason." Xiaoyu says.

"Like what?"

"You tell me."

Again, the lights flicker, and he turns to face her.

"Why don't _you_ tell _me_ if I'm right?"

"Because you seem pretty sure already."

"I want to hear it from you."

"Why?"

He glares, agitated. In the resulting pause, there's one last quick flicker, then the room is plunged into darkness, the television falling silent, the green glow of the battery powered digital clock on the shelf the only remaining source of light. Outside, the lamps are off too.

Xiaoyu blinks in the blackness as her eyes adjust. She gets up from the bed to brush past him, says there should be a candle somewhere, and his grip on her wrist stops her from moving towards the set of drawers.

"Do you or not?"

"...No." she replies. "And I'm not lying. I don't."

He lets go of her wrist, lets out a breath that he didn't realise he'd been holding. Her voice is softer when she continues.

"Satisfied?"

He smiles, though she can't see him, and one hand finds the small of her back to press her close, the other finding her chin to tilt her face up to his.

"Not yet..."


	7. Messenger

A/N: _Finally, something new! For anyone following Never Ever, I'll update it soon, promise! Uni dissertation has been eating my soul and snacking on my creativity to boot. Hopefully it won't show in this ficlet too much! It's kind of a side story set before Monochrome starts. Not that you need to read Monochrome for it to make sense, but the nature of Xiao and Hwo's relationship is the same in this fic as it is in Monochrome and Never Ever. I chose the prompt word this time, and it's 'messenger'. Oh yeah, I just wanted to say thanks for the suggestions you gave me in the last review, Razer! I'm definitely going to use them in the future. I sat down to write the letter one, and uh, it ended up turning into this. I'll have to try it again, haha. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one, and I'd love it if you left me a review to let me know what you think of it._

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**Messenger**

It was late in the afternoon when the familiar chime of her email client jolted her out of the hazy realm somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Said realm was somewhere she liked to visit often, mostly during English class while her teacher droned on about dramatic irony and iambic pentameter and how irritating it was that her students still couldn't grasp the fact that 'wherefore' meant 'why', _not_ 'where' and if they couldn't get their head around that then they'd never fully understand the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. And then she'd inevitably direct a rant towards Xiaoyu only, usually something like;

"Miss Ling, are you even paying attention, because from that blank look on your face I highly doubt it! And judging by the quality of your homework you should be absorbing all the information you can possibly take in if you want to stand a chance of passing this class!"

_Ugh. Why don't you just rub it in a little more, English?_

She sat up, her fingernails bright pink as she combed them through her tangled hair. Miharu had painted them for her the previous day and she'd already chipped them. She'd never been the type of girl who was always flawlessly turned out though, her pigtails were usually crooked and her hair ties were mismatched on most occasions, plus her mascara was always smudged by the end of the school day and she'd look in the mirror and sigh, wondering how long she'd been walking around with panda eyes.

Rising from the bed, she leaned over the desk, guessing it'd be some junk mail from one of the online shoe shops she bought from since she was due for this month's 'hot picks'. It'd help if she had the money spare, she thought with a sigh, clicking the email program.

**Subject**: stop daydreaming and get your ass on IM  
**Sender**: menacetosociety

A smile lit up her face and she pulled out the bright red desk chair to sit down, opening the email properly.

'you're spacing out like a goon aren't you, kiddo? well i'm fucking bored. entertain me.'

_How polite_, she thought with a roll of her eyes, but opened Messenger all the same. It was an excuse to procrastinate further, after all.

'I'm always struck by your lovely manners.' she wrote to Hwoarang. 'If you're bored, watch a movie. And not one of THOSE movies, before you start.'

His answer came back quickly, the chime sounding just as she was pulling her acid yellow binder out of her desk drawer, creased notepaper covered in doodles spilling onto the floor.

'THOSE movies? no idea what you're referring to, xiao. think you'll have to show me an example.'

She shook her head at that, tangled pigtails swaying with the movement, and decided to abandon the binder and get herself more comfortable in the computer chair. A strong breeze rustled the dead leaves on the tree outside, a few of them floating past her window in a whirl of oranges and browns as her small fingers tapped at the keyboard.

'Tell you what, I'll send Miharu over.' She smiled to herself as she typed. 'I noticed you were teasing her more than usual today - you know what they say about little boys and their ways of showing affection...'

Hwoarang replied a few minutes later with: 'i'll pretend i didn't read that 'little' comment' and she smiled, gathering up the fallen notes and stacking them on top of her binder. The messenger chime sounded again.

'you're jealous aren't you? don't worry baby, me and you got a special relationship.'

Xiaoyu rolled her eyes, trying to keep the grin off her face. He was like this all the time - with both her and Miharu - and if it were anyone else she'd probably find it annoying, but for some reason, when it came to Hwoarang, it was different. It just made her laugh.

'Yeah, in bizarro-world maybe' she sent back.

'ah, still in denial. just admit it, you want my dick'

'Ok.' she sent back. 'I admit it. I'm failing English cos I sit in class daydreaming about you. And your dick'

'I knew it.'

The sky was dark with clouds, a fine, misty rain just beginning to fall, and from her place in front of the window, Xiaoyu could see into the house across the street. A cosy glow came from the kitchen window, and the lady who lived there was standing in front of the sink, sleek black hair falling in loose curls down her back. She was washing the dinner dishes most likely.

_Something I should probably have done earlier,_ Xiaoyu thought guiltily. As soon as she'd finished dinner she'd disappeared into her bedroom, hoping someone else would get tired of seeing the dishes piled up and wash them.

'What're you up to anyway?' she typed into Messenger. 'Besides talking rubbish to me that is?'

'like i said. bored. hiding.'

'From?'

He didn't answer right away, and Xiaoyu pushed her chair back, undoing her pigtails and padding downstairs to grab her schoolbag. It was about time she did some work - judging by the rapidly fading daylight outside, it was getting late.

'my devoted fanclub.' Hwoarang had written when she got back to her bedroom.

'Oh. That's Hwo-speak for 'Baek wants me for training and I'm too lazy', then.'

'what're you doing then? fantasising about my dick again?' he sent back, ignoring her comment. Xiaoyu moved her laptop to the corner of the desk and spread her crumpled notes out.

'Nope. Homework. Sorry to disappoint.'

'...you fucking suck, xiao.'

She laughed, reaching under the desk and pulling out her English study guidebook, then flipping it open and taking out her panda shaped bookmark.

_Right. Time to take some notes on the Capulets and Montagues so that English doesn't bitch me out again next lesson. _

Before she closed her laptop and began reading though, she typed a last message.

'...You fucking _wish_, Hwo.'


	8. Game, Set, Match

A/N: I know, I know. I _should_ be working on Never Ever, but I got the idea for this and I just had to write it. I'm looking forward to Wimbledon, and as such, this fic is kind of tennis themed. For anyone who's not familiar with tennis, I'll explain the terms I used in this fic. (With the help of Wikipedia since I suck at explaining tennis.)

The points system goes like this: 15 - 30 - 40 - Win. To win a game, a player has to win four points in total and at least two more than their opponent.  
A _fault_ is a serve (a shot to start a point) that is long, wide, or doesn't go over the net.  
An _ace_ is a serve that goes untouched by the opponent's racquet and so is unreturned.  
In tournament play, the end of the match is announced with the phrase "_Game, set, match_" followed by the winning person's or team's name.

Prompt word is number 22: revenge. And yes, this particular 'revenge' idea's been done before, but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this fic. (Oh yeah, almost forgot. It's set during the fourth tournament.) And thank you to the awesome people who reviewed the last update!

* * *

**Game, Set, Match.**

* * *

The final blow was unexpected, like an ace shot in a tennis match that slammed past before he could even react. _Match point awarded to Jin Kazama_. It had been a simple roundhouse, unexpected enough that it might as well have come out of nowhere, though he knew that if he hadn't been pushed to breaking point, if he wasn't so tired and angry, and if the adrenaline had lasted just a little longer and prevented the pain from creeping through and dimming his focus, he might have anticipated it and made some attempt to block or evade. Now though, he was struggling to get to his knees, sprawled among shattered glass from one of the telephone booths he'd kicked the bastard through earlier on in the battle. So, this was what it felt like to be on the losing side.

He hadn't experienced such a feeling in a long time, the reason being that for one thing, he was just that fucking amazing, and for another, defeat was not something that came easily to him. Even when it seemed like there was no possible hope of victory, he would inevitably discover some sign of weakness in an opponent, some small crack in their defences, something he could exploit. This time though...

As he finally managed to get to his feet, dusting himself off and biting back the anger and shame, the sound of light, quick footsteps reached his ears. He raised his head, and Ling Xiaoyu offered him a small smile.

"I know this probably won't be any consolation... but I thought you did great."

'_Why should I care?'_ he wanted to snap. '_Do I look like I want to hear that I did great after I just fucking lost?'_

"I... um, I really enjoyed the match." she told him, trying to fill the silence. "I watched it the whole way through."

Of course she did, she and Kazama were close. At first, Hwoarang had assumed they were dating, but no, they were 'just good friends'. As if. The fond glances and sickeningly shy smiles that Kazama constantly directed at her hadn't escaped his notice. He was also aware of how the pigtailed girl would gaze at _him_ on occasion, and how she'd blush and look away when he caught her. Even now, her cheeks were flushed slightly as she stood awkwardly waiting for a reply.

"So glad you enjoyed it, kid." He answered, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Dunno what I'd have done if it turned out you'd been sat there bored the whole time I was blocking punches with my face."

"Kid?" she repeated, completely ignoring the rest of the swipe. Something else he hadn't expected, figuring she'd get upset and stalk off to talk to golden boy instead. "Hey, I'm only three years younger than you, you know. I'm not a kid anymore."

Hwoarang's gaze slipped languidly down her body, taking in the soft curves of her breasts and hips.

"Hm, guess you're right." he murmured, eyes meeting hers, an idea beginning to spark and take shape. "Definitely not a kid anymore."

No, the game wasn't over. It had just been 0 - 15 in Jin Kazama's favour. And, judging by how Xiaoyu's face reddened over that one small comment, it was now fifteen all.

* * *

15 - 15

* * *

"It's been a while since we've been able to sit together like this."

Xiaoyu's voice. She and Kazama were sitting nearby, having walked into the hotel restaurant about ten minutes after he'd got settled down to eat, and although he'd itched to leap up and slam Kazama's smug face through a table, Xiaoyu's pleased blush at the sight of him was enough evidence that if he just waited a little longer, payback would be that much sweeter.

"Yeah." Kazama replied. "Well, we've both been busy."

"Yeah, well, I don't have that worry anymore." she answered, sounding annoyed. "In case you forgot, I lost today."

_Fault. _

"Sorry, Xiao."

"No... don't worry about it... It's just frustrating. I just keep dwelling on the stupid mistakes I made, you know? Like if I'd just done this instead of that, I could've been celebrating a win right now."

"Yeah, you're bound to do that. At least you can learn from them, right?"

"I guess." There was a long pause, the clinking of cutlery and buzz of conversation a constant in the background. "I'm glad you're here, Jin."

"You are?" The hope in Kazama's voice was unmistakable.

"Yeah. I dunno whether it's the same for you, but I think it's comforting to have a friend in a place like this, where everyone's super competitive. Plus, even though I lost, I can still cheer _you_ on."

"I guess so..."

If Xiaoyu picked up on his disappointment, she made no mention of it.

"So..." he started after a short silence. "What did you and Hwoarang talk about after the match?"

"Wh-what? Oh... nothing, really."

She sounded like she was smiling.

* * *

30 - 15

* * *

The glow of the solar lamps dotting the pathway outside was gently fading as Hwoarang sat next to the window, pondering the best way to score his next point. Getting her alone would be a good place to start, he thought with irritation, eyes resting on Xiaoyu as she slotted coins into the jukebox and started to scroll through the track listings.

Kazama was sitting at their table, drinking orange juice, of all things. Hwoarang rolled his eyes in disbelief. Somehow, losing to a guy who goes into a bar and orders fucking _orange juice_ made the defeat all the more annoying. The song on the jukebox finished, and peppy top 40 pop filled the air. A perfect ending to a perfect day. Thank fuck the beer was free.

He stared out of the window at the flickering lamps for a moment before letting his eyes slowly unfocus and his consciousness drift until the noise and music merged into an unobtrusive hum, like a television playing nothing but static.

"You want to go _now?_ But there's another three songs yet." Xiaoyu's voice brought his focus back.

"I've got another match tomorrow, Xiao. Need to catch up on my rest since I'll be up early for this one."

"Well, that was a waste of money." she muttered, and Jin pushed his chair back, standing up.

"You don't _have _to come with me." he told her. "Stay here and listen to the rest of your music if you want."

"You know, I think I will. I'm not even finished with this yet." She waved her drink at him.

"Well don't go overboard."

"I won't." For all her annoyance at being labelled a kid, she sure did sound like a petulant child.

"I'm not saying that. Just... I know you feel bad about your match, so... don't go overboard."

"Actually, I wasn't even thinking about it until you just brought it up. Thanks for reminding me, Jin. Really."

"Sorry... I didn't mean..." He sighed, shaking his head. "Look, I'll see you later."

Xiaoyu didn't reply.

_Second fault of the game, Kazama._

Later, walking back from the bar, another beer in hand, he heard Xiaoyu call his name.

"Hey, over here!" she waved.

"You here by yourself?"

"Yeah. I could do with some company though."

"Well, I suppose I've got nowhere better to be."

"Charming." she shot back, but her eyes were sparkling with amusement as he sat down opposite her.

Two drinks after that, Hwoarang had to admit he was pretty surprised with Xiaoyu. Somehow, they'd managed to make _actual_ conversation. And despite the childish, pigtailed persona, after a while she'd started responding to his suggestive comments with laughter and occasional innuendo of her own instead of getting flustered and changing the subject. No, Ling Xiaoyu was definitely not the sugary sweet, innocent type he'd expected. Though she still blushed incredibly easily, which amused him.

"You do realise," he told her, taking a swig of beer, "that Kazama wants in your pants?"

Xiaoyu shook her head with a laugh.

"He does not."

"Yeah, he does."

"Does not! Why does everyone assume that? We're just friends!"

She was completely serious, and he couldn't help but laugh. She could pick up on a double-entrendre effortlessly, yet she seemed oblivious to Kazama's obvious hard-on for her. Or maybe she was in denial because the thought of sexing a guy so boring he ordered orange juice was too grim to contemplate. He kinda hoped it was the latter. Either way, he reasoned, it was enough to subtract points from Kazama.

* * *

30 - 0

* * *

The suggestion that she come up to his room to carry on their chat after had been a risk, but it had paid off, most likely helped along by the alcohol flowing through her system and clouding her judgement. Again, thank fuck that the beer was free. People tended to have more than they should when they didn't have to pick up the tab, and Xiaoyu was no exception. Not that she was completely incapable of making her own decisions at this point. She hadn't knocked _that_ many cocktails back.

Her suggestion that her own room was closer had been a welcome surprise, and the slow but smooth progression from harmless joking and flirting to kissing to undressing to pressing her to the bed and sliding inside her, her face buried in his shoulder, legs wound around him, was even more welcome. She gave soft sighs of pleasure as he trailed his lips down her throat and over her chest, and when he kissed her she moaned into his mouth.

Afterwards, he lay awake and stared up at the ceiling. Her slow, even breathing indicated she was sleeping, so by all accounts, he could get up, get dressed, and leave without waking her. If he wanted.

* * *

40 - 0

* * *

Kazama's muffled voice tore Hwoarang from a dreamless sleep, and he forced his eyes open to see Xiaoyu, clad in an oversized t-shirt with a panda on the front that barely reached the tops of her thighs, a slight wave to her unbrushed hair. He'd tangled his fingers in her hair when he came.

"Xiao, are you in there? You okay?"

"I... I'm fine..."

"Can I come in?"

"No! I, uh, I just showered. I'm not dressed!"

"You weren't at my match... Did you have too much to drink? I _told_ you not to go overboard!"

"Chill, Kazama." Hwoarang grinned, putting his arms behind his head and leaning back against the pillows. "She's fine."

_Ace._

Xiaoyu turned to him, eyes wide in disbelief, and he shrugged at her.

"Well..." he continued breezily, "Having said that, she _did _look like she needed to lie down last night... But don't worry, she's got a lot more colour in her cheeks now."

Kazama was silent.

_Game, set, match._


	9. Sugar

A/N:_ I've just come back from holiday, and weirdly, I've been doing more writing than I do when I'm at home. Maybe Vitamin D influences me to write, haha. Anyway, I have a couple of new ficlets, but the other one is in desperate need of editing, so it'll be up later. This one should be ok though, hopefully! Prompt word is number 42: annoy. It's set sometime after chapter 11 of Monochrome, but you don't need to read it for this to make sense, I don't think. I hope you all enjoy reading it. And thank you so much for the reviews for the last ficlet, I was so happy that you guys thought the characters were written in character, I consider that such a huge compliment!_

_

* * *

_

**Sugar**

* * *

If you asked, he could probably tell you anything you might want to know about Ling Xiaoyu. Favourite colour? Yellow, of course (like her it's cheery and bright and lifts your mood and reminds you of sunshine).

Favourite food? She says Chinese steamed buns are her favourite, but she also has a huge weakness for the overpriced praline chocolate bars from the school vending machines, if the fact that she always flashes him the death glare if he forgets or comes back with something else is anything to go by. Said death glare isn't exactly intimidating, but the way her face lights up when he hands her chocolate over is kinda cute, so he tries not to disappoint her if he can help it. (Sometimes he has to go to a few different vending machines before he finds it, but when she asks what took so long he shrugs and tells her he needed a smoke.)

Favourite season? Summer, stupid. Especially when school's over and she can drag him and Miharu to whatever amusement park she can afford and beg him to win her plush toys when she's had enough of the rollercoasters. Miharu buys them both candyfloss, and she offers to share it with him even though he's explained repeatedly that he hates sickly, sugary crap like that. She ignores him every time, telling him it's yummy and waving it in front of his face until he rolls his eyes and says "I think I'd prefer a beer, somehow." Then it's her turn to roll her eyes, hugging whatever plush toy he's managed to win from the crane games (he rocks at those, but the bastards are rigged and he usually spends more trying to win them than he would have if he were to just buy her one from the gift shop) to her chest.

"And you say _candyfloss _is gross?"

Her favourite animal? Panda. Her favourite subject at school? Any free period. Celebrity crush? That girly looking Jaejoong guy from DBSK. Best friends? Him and Miharu.

Sometimes that fact irritates him. Sometimes he wishes they weren't friends at all. _No, that's not it. _He'd miss her smiles and (annoyingly) sunny disposition, and her irritating way of insisting on trying to cheer him up when he wants nothing more than to sit and sulk. (But if they weren't so close, maybe she'd see him differently, and that might be worth not being friends.)

See him differently? So how does she see her best friends, exactly?

Well, Miharu's the one she can get excited about pointless stuff like clothes and shoes and her favourite band's new PV with. Miharu's the one she can talk to about girly stuff like whatever guy she's crushing on.

Him? He's the one she can count on to make her laugh, to be the bad influence who tempts her to skip out on class and jump on the back of his bike and tear off to who knows where while all her classmates listen to English drone on about the metatheatrical elements of _Hamlet. _He's also the one she runs to whenever she's upset, and it's stupid, but whenever she does, he can't rest until he knows he's managed to cheer her up in some small way. Seeing Xiaoyu upset puts him in a mood too, and that fact irritates the hell out of him. He doesn't know why it's happening, she's hardly the type of girl he usually goes for, all sunshine and lollipops (and he's supposed to hate anything sugary) but his feelings for Ling Xiaoyu are deepening, and he really wishes they weren't.

Especially since the last time she ran to him, upset, it turned out to be because of _her_ deepening feelings for Jin Kazama.


	10. Lessons

_A/N: Prompt number 12: Lessons. This one started out a lot longer, but I thought it dragged so I decided to hack it to bits, haha. While I was rereading the previous chapters I noticed that the basic plot of this one is similar to 'Flicker', but nonetheless I hope you guys like it. Thanks for the reviews for the last oneshot, by the way! :)_

* * *

**Lessons**

* * *

It had taken just over twenty minutes, time mostly spent folding and unfolding his arms, angrily sweeping his hair out of his face, and checking his watch every thirty seconds, but Hwoarang had finally lost all patience. The stifling heat was making him irritable enough to begin with, the sun was getting in his eyes, and he had better things to do with his time than wait around in a carpark while his girlfriend dawdled around the make-up aisle in the chemist.

Scowling, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled Xiaoyu's number, mood darkening further when her cheerful voice answered and actually had the nerve to ask him what he _wanted. _

"Where the hell are you?" he snapped. "I've been stood around here like a complete fuckin' moron for about an hour!"

"You've been stood around like a complete fucking moron for about twenty-three minutes, actually." Xiaoyu corrected sunnily. "Not even close to an hour. I won't be long anyway. In fact, I'm just turning the corner."

Hwoarang glanced up, and sure enough, she was standing at the other end of the carpark, black hair fluttering in the breeze. With a smile and a wave, she flipped her phone closed and headed over to him at a leisurely pace, completely unaffected by the way he was glowering at her.

"Five minutes, you told me." he said through gritted teeth.

"There's a saying," she began, slipping her phone into her pocket, the panda shaped charm catching the afternoon sunlight, "I'm sure you've heard it before, but… 'patience is a virtue'"

"And when did I ever give you the idea that I was either of those things?"

"Well look at it this way," she replied, unable to resist winding him up despite his obvious ill humour. "You just got a little _lesson_ in patience, huh?"

Her teasing was met with silence and a stony glare, and Xiaoyu rolled her eyes and hopped on the back of the bike, steeling herself for the journey home. When Hwoarang was annoyed, it inevitably reflected in his driving.

* * *

"Am I forgiven yet?"

Her voice cut through the gloom as the sun continued its slow descent outside the window, now nothing more than a red glow on the horizon. Millions of stars were blinking into sight in the dusk sky, he was watching them as he lounged on his bed, the cotton sheets cool against his skin.

He didn't respond, and Xiaoyu closed the door behind her and moved to the open window, resting her elbows on the sill and gazing out, waiting.

"…Haven't made my mind up yet." Hwoarang answered after a few moments. He was only half serious, but Xiaoyu was well aware of his tendency to sulk over the minor things.

"Guess I'd better _help_ you make your mind up then." she told him with a smile, then pushed away from the window to join him on the bed. He sat up and pulled her into his lap, tangling his fingers in her hair when she kissed him, her tongue brushing lightly against his.

"I'm very, very sorry." she laughed, wrapping her arms around him and nibbling his lower lip, taking time to enjoy distracting him from his bad mood. His hands gripped the bottom of her t-shirt and she pulled away so he could tug it over her head.

Xiaoyu made a pleased sound as he gently pushed her onto her back, pinning her below him and capturing her lips with his once more. One hand slipped down her toned stomach to rest just under the waistband of her denim shorts, and she closed her eyes, longing for his fingers to dip lower. His hand was still for a long moment as he considered how best to respond to her teasing apology, she continued to wait… and then he reached up to brush her fringe out of her eyes. She released the breath she was holding, flashing him an irritated glance.

"Wh- "

He interrupted her with another kiss, and when she reached up to pull him closer, she quickly found her wrists pinned above her head. There was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes at her indignant expression and he leaned down, slowly running his tongue over her earlobe and making her shudder.

"What was it you said this afternoon, Xiao?" he murmured as she struggled to free her hands, wanting to touch him.

"Who cares?" she complained. "Hurry up and carry on with what you were doing."

"Something about patience?"

She fixed him with her best beseeching expression. He ignored her.

"You also said something about a lesson."

His mouth brushed against hers, and when she tried to kiss back he moved away, lips tracing a path down her neck. She whined his name in annoyance, and he smiled against her skin as stars glittered through the window.

"So let's start_ yours_, shall we?"


	11. Christmas Wrapping

A/N: This one's prompt word number 68, 'gift', and it's a little Christmas present for **Razer Athane**, because the idea for this ficlet is _all_ her fault. :D Happy holidays!

* * *

**Christmas Wrapping**

* * *

Xiaoyu didn't think she'd get the sight she'd just witnessed out of her head for a while. A grin tugged at her mouth; despite the initial mixture of utter bewilderment and slight disturbance that had swirled through her before her amusement had taken over, she had to admit it hadn't looked all that bad on him.

They'd been in the living room, the multicoloured fairy lights on the tree and the crackling fire in the hearth glowing through the darkness, lending a cosy sort of festivity to the room. But Xiaoyu hadn't been interested in any of that, the feel of his lips on hers and his hands in her hair was all that mattered. They kissed heatedly, impatiently, and she tugged off his t-shirt and fumbled with the buttons on his jeans and let all coherent thought leave her head as he trailed kisses down her neck.

Somehow, even with the distraction of his mouth on her skin, she managed to drag his jeans halfway down his hips, but then she caught a glimpse of his choice of underwear and stopped short. Her eyes went comically wide as she took in the fluffy white trim and bright red material of what looked suspiciously like a thong, and she let go of the handful of denim she'd been clutching. She stared at him, and she could see he was trying his best to keep a straight face as she choked on her words and dissolved into giggles.

"What?" she heard him ask innocently over the sound of her laughter. "It's Christmas!"


	12. Change

_A/N: Seven months without an update? Wow, I think that might be close to a personal best! Seriously, sorry for taking such a long break from these oneshots, I really don't know why I haven't written anything sooner because I really do enjoy doing them. This one's for prompt number 38: change. Basically I put my Xiao/Hwo-tinted glasses on and wrote a very short ficlet based around the conversation you get if you fight Hwoarang as Xiaoyu in Scenario Campaign on Tekken 6. This is assuming Hwoarang won that little battle. Where is Alisa while this is going on, you might ask? Uh... let's just pretend she did her occasional trick of throwing herself in the water before they got to Hwoarang. ;)_

* * *

**Change**

**

* * *

**

Before she'd known who the resistance leader was, she'd gone with the tried and true tactic of making a big enough fuss to lure him out.

Now she's trying her best _not_ to make a fuss, biting her lip and holding her breath and trying to keep quiet so as not to attract any attention. It's not like there's any way she'd get him into trouble if she wasn't quiet, (he is the leader after all, he has no one to answer to) but even though they're doing this out in the open, and hardly in the most _romantic_ of places, she still doesn't feel comfortable with the thought that anyone nearby might hear her.

After their fight, both of them were tired and sore, and even though he helped her to her feet and checked her over for injuries, she had a feeling he was ever so slightly exasperated with her for her stance on the whole issue with Jin and the Zaibatsu.

She knew she hadn't worded her reply particularly well when he'd accused her of helping Jin's cause, even to herself she'd sounded like a petulant child who couldn't understand or accept change.

But now his lips are brushing her ear, one hand pinning her wrist to the metal shipping container he's pressed her against. She wonders if he understood what she was trying to say, the meaning behind her last words to him before their fight began.

She doesn't want there to be any need for a resistance. She doesn't want soldiers and blood and smoke and guns. She doesn't want it to be either Jin or the world. But if there's no other choice, then the one to stop Jin, the one at risk, should be her. They were close once, or at least, she _thought_ that they were. (And still does.) Either way, it's the least she can do for allowing things to get this far. For not being able to see what was happening to Jin, for not realising that he was slipping away. Maybe one day she'll accept that it _is_ too late, that she'll never get back the friend she remembers.

Her eyes slip closed, and she wraps her free arm around Hwoarang, trying to focus on how he feels inside her but unable to stop wondering how all of this is ever going to be fixed. Deep down, she knows he won't give up on this battle, but at least being with her like this offers him some sort of brief respite, she thinks, reminds him of simpler times, those carefree, lazy afternoons they'd spend together before all this started.

Just like back then, Hwoarang's movements are gentle, his mouth warm against her skin. She rests her head on his shoulder and shudders as dusk creeps in around them, wishing the world was still the same.


	13. Solitude

_A/N: Scribbled this one down at work while I was slacking. Me, slacking? I know, it's unthinkable, considering I update so frequently! :) That aside, I hope you enjoy reading it. (Probably obvious, but this one, like ficlet number 9, is based during Monochrome.) Prompt word is number 3: Solitude._

* * *

**Solitude**

* * *

It was one of those beautiful afternoons, clear skies, bright sunshine pouring into the room, a gentle breeze weaving its way through the half open window to rustle the tags I still hadn't got around to taking off of the new clothes hanging on my wardrobe door. Outside, sunny, upbeat music was being carried on the wind, one of the neighbours had the radio on and their doors thrown wide open, welcoming the spring air inside.

I should have been outside somewhere, enjoying the afternoon with Miharu, but instead I was sitting on my bed, still wearing my school uniform, glaring down at the bedcovers and wishing a torrential downpour would start. If nothing else it would force the giggling, shrieking neighbourhood kids elsewhere, whoever was blasting their damned radio would have to shut their doors, and I'd finally be left to sulk in silence.

Needless to say, I'd had a terrible day. First off, I'd scored a lousy twenty-three out of a possible hundred on my maths test, and the teacher had oh-so-maturely seen fit to stand all of us who failed at the front of the classroom and bitch at us in front of everyone. Even worse, I was the one who'd scored the lowest, something said teacher had been sure make clear on several occasions. I'd only just managed the walk of shame back to my seat before the tears welled up in my eyes and refused to be blinked away, forcing me to try and discreetly rummage in my bag for a tissue and hope my brand new mascara was as waterproof as it claimed to be, and wasn't slowly transforming me into something out of a visual kei band.

Secondly, when I'd met up with my friends at lunchtime and regaled them with the whole sorry tale expecting sympathy, Miharu had responded by slamming her magazine shut with an angry exhale and turning to glare at me.

"Jeez, Xiao, just chill! Why is it that when you're in a mood, _everyone_ has to know about it? I failed my _Geography_ test, but you don't see me getting all mopey, do you?"

Of course, I hadn't been able to let the comment lie, which led to an argument, which culminated in Mi telling me to get over myself, which _then_ led to an stupid temper tantrum on my part, and Hwoarang completely ignored us both in favour of reading his bike magazine while I sniped and whined at Mi and she rolled her eyes and told me to stop being such a baby. Of course, it was only later on that I found out that there was a rumour going around that Hikaru, the guy Miharu had been into for _ages_, had got together with Ayumi over the weekend. No wonder my maths related humiliation had seemed like such a silly thing to be upset about. I mean, Hikaru'd been giving mixed signals to Miharu for months now. They were supposed to get together in the end, I mean, that's how these things usually work, isn't it?

Thirdly, while I was waiting for Mi after school, desperate to apologise and offer chocolate and hugs, Jin Kazama had approached me hesitantly, looking like he was dying to say something but not quite sure how to word it. My stomach had flipped in excitement as he fumbled for the right words.

"Xiao, uh..."

He trailed off awkwardly and I flashed an encouraging smile, my overactive imagination filling in the blanks and drawing the ridiculous conclusion that he was trying to confess his feelings for me or ask me out or something.

"Your skirt... at the back, it's..." he tried again, and the encouraging smile dissolved into a look of mortification as I reached behind me to pat the back of my skirt and realised what he was trying to tell me. Somehow it had ended up tucked into my knickers, which meant that I'd been walking around for God only knew how long, flashing my panda print panties to the world. Sexy doesn't even _begin_ to cover it.

So when my mobile phone's cheery melody started up, bouncing alongside the radio music from outside, I think I could be forgiven for completely ignoring it. As soon as it stopped, I snatched it up, the panda charm knocking against my knuckles as I checked who the caller had been. Hwoarang. I sighed, dropping it back onto the bed. He hadn't left a message. Knowing him, he was probably bored and figured he'd call me up to pick on me for a while. He did that on occasion, and freely admitted it was because he found it entertaining that I got so easily wound up. I so wasn't in the mood for it.

A few minutes later, he called again. I sat and stared down at the phone, the lit up numbers on the screen staring back at me.

"What is it, Hwo?" I answered curtly.

"You simmered down from dinnertime yet, kiddo?" He sounded amused, as he always did whenever he spoke to me on the phone when I was in a mood.

"Mm."

"I'll come pick you up then, we'll go somewhere on the bike."

I sighed. He always did this.

"I don't _want_ to go anywhere, Hwo. I'm still sulking. Solitude is sort of a requirement for that."

"Whatever." he said easily, not even bothering to argue, and hung up. I looked at the phone in exasperation, then shook my head, the beginnings of a smile tugging at my mouth. He always did this, too. Fifteen minutes later, the purr of a motorbike engine mingled with the breezy music from next door, and my mood lightened considerably.


End file.
